


Killing Villanelle

by nikusuo



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Art, Chaos, Eve polastri - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbians, Masturbation, Murder and Mayhem, Slow Burn, Smut, Smut Eventually, The Twelve - Freeform, Villanelle, Villaneve, carolyn and konstantin, eve is the assassin, rip bill, rip kenny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikusuo/pseuds/nikusuo
Summary: What happens after Eve and Villanelle turn and walk away?Eve becomes an assassin. That's what.
Relationships: Anna Leonova/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Eve Polastri/Niko Polastri, Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 31
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

Eve walks.

She walks and walks, choking back sobs. She closes her eyes, replaying the same moment over and over in her mind.  
She stopped, turned around and stared at the back of Villanelle’s head.  
Villanelle had stopped walking.  
The two locked eyes.

Villanelle smirked sadly and started to turn when a noise caught her attention. A car rumbled up to the bridge, and a tall man Eve didn't recognize got out. He was tall. His face was shadowy and Eve couldn't make out any features for certain. He had gangly limbs, covered by a tailored suit and carried a briefcase. He approached Villanelle, whispered something in her ear, and then returned to the unmarked car. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, reaching back to tighten her bun and looked from Eve to the car a couple times. 

“Bye, Eve.” She called out, waving. 

The other woman took a step back, wringing her fists and feeling hot and cold and whatever - the - fuck other temperatures there were. Villanelle reached into her pocket and set something gently on the ground before climbing into the passenger's seat of the car. 

Eve watched on as the car rolled past her, staring at the cause of everything through the tinted window. Villanelle was watching her too, biting her lip. The lonely woman grabbed a fistful of her dark hair, letting out a strangled cry at the sight of the car becoming nothing but a dot on the horizon. 

Eve walks and walks. She reaches the airport at around 5 am, according to the sad little phone Carolyn lended her after her first two were destroyed by-  
Anyway.

What will she do? She has no contacts anymore, Niko is god - knows - where, Kenny. Bill. Eve has no money, no ID, nothing. Her phone doesn't even have a SIM card, for fucks sakes.  
Suddenly, calm washes over Eve. She has the ring. Villanelle left it on the ground for a reason. Eve has something to focus on. Something worth solving. She pulls the ring out of her pocket, staring at the silver band. No codes. No nothing. She then looks at the centerpiece. A red ruby, shaped like a teardrop. It is as she stares into the ruby that a thought comes to her mind. Bitter pill! Jamie, Bear, Audrey! They are still alive, and hopefully still want to help. Eve has to find a payphone. 

*

Villanelle. 

They hold hands, walking along a cliff face. Eve looks at Villanelle. She can practically hear the hatred radiating off her. She dives off and splatters onto the rocks below her. Villanelle watches her fall, her eyes cold and unattached. She laughs coldly and disappears, leaving Eve to pick up the pieces of herself. 

Eve awakes with a start, a cold sweat enveloping her body. She looks out the window, watching the trees and hills and buildings whizz past as she rocks slightly with the bumps the car goes over. 

“Thank you again, Jamie. I really don't know what I would have-”  
“Shut up, Eve. I help you out of every flavor of the shit. The thank you’s lose meaning after the hundredth time." Eve smiles, although it doesn't reach her eyes.

“What happened?” Jamie asks, his gentle eyes flicking up to look in the rear view mirror. 

“We decided to end it. Whatever it was. But then she got into - into this car, Jamie. I think it was the twelve. They've re hired her. I - It doesn't matter. It's better when we’re apart. I’m feeling better. I am feeling better.” Eve repeats the last sentence to herself more than to Jamie. 

“If it's better now, why are you crying?” Jamie's eyebrows knit together. Eve touches her face, shocked that it’s damp with tears. She didn't even realize.  
She turns onto her side, looking out the window.

“What are you going to do now?” Jamie asks. “Oh for fucks sakes, Jamie! I don't know! I didn't sign up for twenty goddamn questions!” she shouts. “Arrrrrgh!” She adds for good measure, swinging her arms in about every direction. “Feel better now?” 

“Yes.”

*  
Two months later.  
*

Eve awakes with a start, as per usual. Another dream about Villanelle. More specifically, her eyes, unmoving, unblinking. Just staring.

She gets out of the bed with a sigh and opens the curtains. The sunlight hits her little apartment, bouncing off the glass dishes sitting on the drying rack. In the two months that passed, Eve got her life together bit by bit. Again, she has a tiny apartment in walking distance from the old Bitter Pill headquarters where she goes every day. She still thinks about Villanelle. All the time.

Eve has made some friends. Bear’s sister, Aliana, comes into Bitter Pill to deliver lunch sometimes. They all sit around a table and talk. No investigating. No The Twelve. Just talking. About all that happened. Jamie is slowly rebuilding Bitter Pill after the raid, and Eve, Audrey, Bear, and sometimes Aliana all help him where they can. 

At first, all Eve wanted to do was crawl into bed and never wake up. Bear helped her get her apartment for cheap, Audrey encouraged Eve to come to see everyone most days, and Elena gave her a basket of fruit for her housewarming gift.

It’s so fucking boring.

After tasting what it's like to have something in your life, something to wake up for and something to discover, to think about, to be obsessed with, the mundane day to day loses its taste. Eve needs something. She isn't sure what. For now, she grabs her turtleneck, puts on a coat, walks to Bitter Pill and talks with Audrey about her cats, to Bear about tangfastics, to Jamie about the deep philosophy of life. That one was a one sided conversation. She smiles and nods. She's nice and normal and sweet until her mouth aches. “I’m going to head off now!” Eve hugs everyone and exits into the night.

As she walks, she starts to hear another pair of footsteps behind hers. Could it be Villanelle? She feels panicked. Villanelle wouldn’t follow her like this. She’d wait in Eve’s apartment with her toothbrush in her mouth.

No, this was someone else. She keeps walking, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck and traveling through her body. She grabs her keys and holds them between her knuckles, taking a big breath. Eve turns around and tackles the person following her, driving them onto the sidewalk. 

She blinks. The man blinks back. “Who are you?” she asks, still straddling him. “I represent le conseil d’administration,” he says plainly. “Who?” Eve asks, knitting her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you here to kill me?” she asks, pressing her key into the soft part of the man's jaw. “No. I’m here to hire you,” he says. ‘If you would let me get up. It's cold.” 

Eve stands up slowly, watching the stranger scramble to his feet. He had an unmemorable face, bushy eyebrows and dark skin with black, closely cropped hair. She could see his chicken pox scars on his forehead. Eve peers at his attire. A dress shirt, expensive - looking, with golden buttons tucked into black jeans. He obviously didn't expect to be tackled.

“May I come into your apartment?” He asks with a prominent Russian accent. Eve decides to blindly trust this man. If she dies, she dies. She wouldn't be missing out on much. Plus, this is an unusual encounter and Eve doesn't get many of those. 

She nods once, still keeping cold and unattached. They walk silently to Eve’s apartment building. She climbs the stairs, buzzing the two of them in. Both of them wait wordlessly in the elevator, the man checking his watch every few seconds. When it finally opens, the two walk down the hallway and Eve lets him in before locking the door behind them.

\He sits down at her small table and she sits across from him, staring him down.

“My name is Darius. I represent an organization that is determined to stop a rivalling organization, I'm sure you know which, in their tracks. We have been watching you since Rome. You are highly intelligent, alert, instinctive and you have the ability to see patterns others could never. We would like to offer you a job opportunity.”

Eve slumps back in her seat, dumfounded. “What job?” she asks plainly, her mind running faster than the speed of light.

“We would like you to be an assassin for us,” He says in a monotone voice while staring at Eve

The world she has carefully cultivated falls out from under her. A rival organization? Could they have been the people that managed The Ghost? Why Eve? She wasn't capable.. And what about Villanelle?

Eve swallows thickly. “I dont have the training-”

“We would train you, no cost, of course. You could live the life you fantasize about. We understand the assassin whose codename is Villanelle could pose as a problem, as she does indeed still work for the Twelve, but this is an opportunity to move on. To kill Eve Polastri and become a new person. You are perfect for the role, just perfect. There is nothing for you in this boring life, Eve. You’re better than this."

Eve closes her eyes and rubs them until she sees stars. “What will happen to my friends? What will everyone think? I can't just go missing,’ she says, staring at Darius. 

“Yes, you can. You can go missing, or die. Either one will work for us.” He pulls out an iPad. “If I “die,” can I decide how?” She asks, running a hand through her hair and tugging on a fistful. “Of course. But that comes after you accept or decline our offer.” Darius blinks slowly, his face unmoving. Eve bites her lip, staring at the wall behind the formally dressed man and thinking.

This is her way to escape.

She's always wanted to do this. 

Villanelle would probably never find out. Villanelle left Eve. She got into that car and decided her fate herself. Eve didn't want to go along with it. She had killed Bill. She had infected Eve's life and put so many people in danger.

It's Villanelle’s fault Kenny died, essentially. And the Twelve are destabilizing from the ground up, to quote Frank. Eve doesn't want chaos. No one does, really. She wants this. Eve snaps her eyes to Darius’s. “Yes.” He smiles, pulling a phone out of his pocket and standing up. Without dialing, he speaks into it. “This is Darius. Get the flowers to mothers bedside as soon as possible.” With that, he taps the screen and gets up.

“There should be a delivery at around six am tomorrow. Receive it.” Darius walks out the door, leaving no traces that he was ever there. 

Eve sits at her dining room table until six, watching the shadows slowly make their way across the wall. At exactly six, her doorbell goes off. Eve opens it gingerly, anxieties bouncing in her head. A suitcase sits on the carpet outside her door. It’s shiny black, with gold accents. The bag smells expensive. Eve picks it up and takes it inside.

She places it on her table, unzipping it excitedly. Inside, a golden envelope sits, fat with its content.

She pulls out a large stack of cash and a single black card that says “Portobello road - wait outside the pink building ASAP. Pack essentials, we will supply the rest.”  
In a golden scrawl. 

Eve feels a rush, the kind she hasn't felt since V. She runs about her shabby apartment, packing her good shoes, her shitty phone, a small toiletry kit, and the ring, placed inside a tampon box, just in case. She rings a taxi service, bundling into the back and barking ‘Portobello road!” The car pulls up a half hour later in front of a large group of buildings, all different colors.

Eve locates the pink one and drags her suitcase behind her, weaving her way through the large amount of people walking in every direction. Eve sees a black van parked right next to the footpath and picks up her suitcase, hopping into the car and looking at the driver. “Who the fuck are you?” He asks, scratching his head. “Eve?” She says, confused. A white Toyota Camry parked behind the van honks once, and Eve quickly slides out of the seat and scrambles to the other car. “Sorry,” she says, turning to Darius in the driver's seat. 

“Everyone does it. It’s fine.” He turns back to the front and reaches into the glove box, pulling out a plastic bag with a passport and driver's license inside it. She pulls out the small card, squinting. “Athena?” She asks, looking at Darius. “Real names aren't used. Your new name is Athena, and we will all refer to you as so. It’s for security.” He says, quickly glancing from Eve to the road. “We are going to take passport photos as soon as we land. For now, your old ones will do.” 

He passes Eve an iPad. “Decide how you die.” The screen displays a royal blue backdrop, with a single bubble that says ‘Type here…’ Eve has thought about this. She types out a paragraph before giving the iPad back to Darius’ waiting hand. He glances at it, one eye on the wheel and one on the screen. “Drowned? In the bathtub? What a sad way to go.” Eve chuckles, “It's what everyone would believe. Sad, drunk Eve had one too many glasses of wine and decided to get into the bathtub. Death ensues.” She swallows, looking at the side of Darius’s face. “Perfect. Well done, Eve.”

They pull up to the airport, Eve dragging her suitcase and Darius with a small carry-on bag. They check in, getting the tickets and putting their bags through security. Eve quickly reaches into her tampon box and retracts the ring, sliding it on her finger while walking through the metal detection scan. “Madame, any jewelry\ must go into the plastic bins.” She says as Eve shows her ring. “Sorry,” Eve replies, placing it into the bin with the rest of the metal items and continuing along. “Very good, Eve.” Darius says, smiling at Eve. “What?” she says, feigning confusion. “You have a small knife in your bra. You used the ring as a diversion, pretended you were unaware of the rule so the woman let you off from going through again.” He says smugly. “How did you know?” Eve asks, rolling her eyes at the amount of detail he just shared. “It's my job to know.” He says simply, motioning for Eve to put her bag on the conveyorbelt. 

The two make their way past all the regular gates, down a hallway where Darius hands Eve her ticket back. Eve squints at the gate, cocking her head to the side. “Gate wolf? What?” Eve asks, pointing to the ticket. “Our personal jet.” He says simply. They walk into a small room with an attached terminal, revealing a burly man behind the desk who looks at their tickets fleetingly.

He asks for their names, to which Darius states his and turns his attention to Eve. “E- Athena.” She says, covering her mistake smoothly. Darius nods approvingly, smiling at the man and saying something in Russian. 

Together, they walk through the terminal in silence, Eve trying to squish down all the emotions sparking through her body. All of it makes Eve take a deep, slow breath, fluttering her eyelashes. 

They enter the plane and greet the other passenger, a strikingly beautiful woman with a pixie cut and crystal blue eyes. “Athena. Hello. I am Emiliya.” She says in fluent English with an untraceable accent. Eve smiles tightly and brushes past her, the name already forgotten. 

The cabin is lushly furnished, with royal blue carpet and chairs made of leather. The regular plane seats are covered in soft, blue blankets, and the area is empty besides the three. Eve sits down on the blue seats, looking between Darius and Emiliya, as if to say “What now?” Darius walks to an empty wall inside the cabin, in a gap between the windows, and pulls down a backdrop. 

He motions to the pixie cut girl and she grabs a large canon camera from the tray table pulled out next to her. “Stand.” She points at the backdrop, and Eve gingerly rises out of her seat and stands where she was directed. Emiliya snaps a few photos before pressing a button on her phone and nodding at Darius. 

“Ask any questions you have now or hold your peace for the rest of your training. The heads do not like questions.” Darius says, patting the seat, watching as Eve sits next to him instead of across from him.

Eve breathes in.

“You sound Russian. If you're Russian, how come The Board’s name is in French?” Darius bows his head. “The Board is made up from many countries in Europe. Our founder is French. You’ll meet her one day.” Eve nods. 

“What kind of people am I going to….” Eve blanches. “People that work for, support, know of, or help the Twelve. Our organization is about stopping the Twelve from ripping this world apart. We stabilize while they destabilize.” Eve nods again, hardly noticing how he said even people that know of the twelve are in the firing line. 

“How do you know about the Twelve?” “People who worked for MI5 or MI6, ex employees who escaped Raymond. Generally high government people.” “How are you telling me all this? There has to be some rule on what I can know.” He turns to Eve. “We know everything about you. Everything. And now, no one would miss you if I pulled out a gun and shot you right now. You don't exist outside of the Board. You are only Athena now.” Darius stands and walks over to Emiliya, signaling question time is over. Eve sits back in her seat, watching the clouds fly by. 

After god - knows - how much time passes, the seatbelt sign pings on. Eve, awaking with a start due to the ping of the sign, shakes herself out of sleep and sits up. She looks over at Darius and watches the side of his face as he reads a book, his eyebrows knit in focus. Eve decides it's time to think about Villanelle.

She thinks about her eyes and her mouth and her skin and how it felt to be so close to her, smelling the rich perfume she wears and seeing her golden wisps of hair blow in the wind as they spoke. The feeling of her hands as they fought on the bus, the look she gave Eve through the window as the car drove away. The way she smirked and stared at Eve as if she was everything when they danced together, the giggle as Eve said “We’d consume each other before we got old.” Villanelle standing on that ballroom dance floor, watching Eve leave out the door. 

Eve stands up out of her seat, suddenly unattached to the world around her. Her blood roars in her ears, and the rapid decline of the plane doesn't help. “Athena?” Emiliya says, confused as she watches Eve pass her. She walks into the tiny bathroom cubicle, slams the door and throws up in the toilet. She then takes a deep breath and looks at herself in the mirror, wiping the residue off her face and flushing the toilet. She splashes water on her face and swings open the toilet door, returning to her seat with her head down. “You okay?” Darius asks, looking at Eve. “Fine,” she replies, strapping herself into her seat and clearing her mind of everything.

After touching down, Eve follows the two to the conveyorbelt where she retrieves her suitcase before continuing into the universal parking lot. Emiliya taps twice onto the side of a minivan and the three file in. The driver, a tiny woman called Masha stares at Eve extra hard, cocking her head to the side. “Is she really one of yours?” she asks Darius. “New.” He replies simply. Masha nods to Eve to get on the van and she does, staring at the floor.

They pull up to a hotel, and it's only then that Eve thinks to ask where they are. “Moscow,” Emiliya snaps. Eve goes back to being silent. They walk inside and Darius checks in. He waves them over and motions to a staircase hidden behind the check-in desk.

They arrive at a large hall where people are training in every corner. The Board’s training program is set out like a boarding school. Each assassin gets assigned an overseer, much like handlers for The Twelve, and bunks with one other peer. In Eve’s case, it's Emiliya. She's hard to read, spiky and rude one moment, but eager to please and yippy, like a puppy the next. She gives Eve a headache. 

Every new assassin gets a schedule, and Eve’s wounds up on the doorstep of the room she was sent to. Emiliya moans about the light from the door and rolls over. Much like school the schedule consists of six classes. The first is a theory lesson. Everyone in a class of sixteen plus handlers file into a cold room with sofas and lecture seats.

Then, over the span of the next six months, Eve learns about the history of assassinations, famous kills, and its as her professor is talking about that very subject, Eve freezes. A photo of Dasha’s iconic kill, displayed on the screen in HD quality. “This was conducted by an amazingly efficient assassin who, at the time of this kill, was not signed to any organizations. She later unfortunately decided to work for The Twelve before we could reach out and is now deceased, but she still remains one of the best. You should all strive to reach this level.”

Eve sits up. “Many have recreated this assassination, imprinting in our minds the ideal kill.” Villanelle’s kill flashes past the screen when she was talking about recreations, and Eve has to look away. After that, they learn about being untraceable and efficient. They have tests and are given royal blue paper to write answers on.

Eve finds it ironic that she is at school learning how to kill someone. She learns the pressure points, the soft parts on a human body, the quickest and least painful to the slowest and most grueling ways to die. Eve absorbs the information eagerly, living for her day to day lessons. 

After that, she's on to practice. She learns how to paralyze someone, how to stab discreetly, several karate moves and how to tackle effectively (that one was very helpful to Eve because of her petite frame). 

Then, came to assassin - on assassin combat. Everyone in her “class” crowd around the royal blue rink, awaiting their names being called. The goal is to get the peer you are versing to the ground. There is no set combat style, the overseers want to see the creativity we come up with. “Athena.. and Saksa.” Eve stands, swallowing nervously. Darius smiles at Eve encouragingly from where he is sitting. She climbs into the rink, nervously awaiting whoever she’s versing. Eve feels her heart drop to her ass when a large, stocky woman with thick black hair stomps in. She has a moustache. Eve cracks her knuckles. 

Darius and Saska’s handler stand, walking into the middle of the rink. Darius raises his hand slowly, and drops it. Saska launches at Eve, tackling her around the waist and throwing her to the ground. Eve elbows her in her massive face, causing Saska to fall onto her back. She struggles to her feet, preparing to punch Eve when Eve backs into the large woman, jabbing her in the leg where her sciatic nerve sits and watches as Saska struggles to walk while her foot becomes paralysed for a short while. 

The burly woman lets out an animalistic growl and Eve takes the opportunity to grab her metal water bottle from the corner and smashes her upside the head. She crumples backwards, and Eve stands on her neck. The look on Eve’s face is something Saska will never forget. A pure evil. The way Eve’s eyebrows twitched, her slight smile at the fact that she caused this. Eve is enjoying it. Eve’s monster grows. 

Darius smiles. Her monster is just what he needs. A siren sounds and Eve’s spell is broken. She steps back, staring at what she’s done. What would Niko think? She closes her eyes. She doesn't have to worry about hiding whatever it was that made Eve enjoy hurting people anymore. It was about to be her job. Eve has won. 

She gets a tight “good job” from Saska as she holds a tissue to her nose and tilts her head back. 

As Eve leaves the room, she notices how the other assassins to-be move away from her slightly.

She likes it.


	2. Chapter 2

Six months later, Eve has been to every class there is. She spends the days writing and learning how to shoot, stab, and kill. 

She spends the nights staring at her royal blue wall and thinking about her old life.

She thinks about what she is.

Sometimes, she regrets her choice

She thinks of what she told Villanelle. 

“It's so much harder to be nice and normal than it is to be like you.” 

Eve rolls over and squeezes her eyes shut. 

At four am, Eve gets a sharp knock on her door. Emiliya turns to Eve. “I’ll get it.” Eve smiles appreciatively, rolling over in her bed. “Hello?” She hears her roommate say to whoever is behind the door. Eve is so tired she doesn't care. “Hey! What are you-” The sound of a gunshot. Eve’s eyes widen and she feels a cold sweat overtake her body. She stays still, listening for footsteps and hears nothing. 

She takes a deep breath, sitting up in bed and peering at the empty doorway. She then slowly drags her eyes to Emiliya. Her corpse stares straight ahead, the light from the open door reflecting off her brains all over the floor. Eve screams.

A boy from another dorm over comes running in with a large brick phone that the entire block has to share in his hand. Within minutes, armed men storm the building. They wear royal blue bullet-proof vests, letting everyone know they belong to The Board. They order everyone in the block to evacuate into the main hall and begin searching for the culprit. 

Eve, slightly disoriented, is the slowest to leave. A good twenty steps behind everyone else, she hovers around until the soldiers completely search the hallway before moving on besides a few stragglers. Eve walks, fastening her pace so she isn't completely left behind. She looks down at herself as she walks and notices one glob of Emiliya's blood on her pants. She is trying to wipe it off when she slams into a hard figure, winding her slightly. She sees through the soldier as she apologizes, hardly noticing them. It's only when another angry solider yells at Eve to move faster that she looks back over her shoulder and notices a blonde ponytail peeking out from under her helmet. Eve gets shoved in the opposite direction and is forced to keep walking, her head swimming. 

Eve reaches the hall, sitting on the end of a row of seats and apologizing to the overseer talking. “As I was saying, somehow, a representative of The Twelve in all our best theories, breached our security systems and executed one of our own. We have interviews to conduct. Once the head member of our army gives me the all clear, you may return to your rooms. Please be vigilant. Use your training if need be.” He steps down from the wooden speaking podium and chatter erupts around Eve.  
A bearded man with round glasses taps on Eve’s shoulder, beckoning her to follow him. She stands without question due to his royal blue blazer. 

He leads Eve down a dark corridor to a door where he scans a card and the door unlocks with a deep clunk. The fat door swings open, revealing a royal blue interview room with a lush wooden table and two chairs. 

The bearded man introduces himself as one of The Board, and asks her questions about the shooting - where she was, what she saw.

Eve doesn't mention the ponytail.

After all, it could've been anyone's ponytail. Eve was just going mad.

After the interview, the dark haired woman is free to return to her room. The man asks if Eve would like to move to a different room, or if she wanted someone to escort her there. Eve shakes her head, smiling slightly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.”

The corridors look different at night. Two soldiers guard the entrance to her corridor but pay no mind to Eve. She stops. “Are any soldiers you know blonde? With a ponytail? My cousin might work here,” Eve adds to avoid suspicion. The soldier she asks giggles and removes his helmet, revealing a shaved head. “I’m afraid not. It’s part of the job to keep ya hair short, as to not get in the way, innit?” he says. She nods, smiling. “Thanks anyway.” 

She keeps walking, her thoughts racing. She reaches her room and swings open the door, no sight of Emiliya’s body besides a few stains on the carpet. 

Eve pauses. Someone is watching her. She slowly looks up, her entire body cold.

She sits on the bed, army helmet in hand and blonde ponytail resting on her shoulder.

Villanelle.

“I thought Konstantin was full of shit when he told me you were here.” She speaks, her accent as prominent as ever.  
Eve struggles for air. “Why are you here?” She manages to rasp out, backing against the door.  
Villanelle smiles and tosses her hair over her shoulder before standing. She takes a step toward Eve. And another. 

All air completely exits Eve’s body.

“I wanted to see if it was true.”  
“I thought we were going to never look back. To stay away.” Eve says slowly, her eyebrows knitting.  
“We were. Then I hear that you are here. Why are you doing this?” 

A hot, white rage worms its way through Eve and out her mouth. “Because I had nothing left! I had nothing, Villanelle. You know you took it all from me. My husband, my friends. You destroyed anything in my life that wasn't you. Why?!” Eve’s voice becomes loud. 

Villanelle steps forward, slapping a hand across Eve’s mouth and leaning in. “Because I liked you so much. That is what people like us do, Eve. We destroy.” 

Eve bites Villanelles hand and she retracts it sharply, chuckling in a cold manner. 

“What is your problem with me working here, Villanelle?” Eve asks, daring.

“I just think that you will be angry when the truth comes out.” “What truth?”

“The people you are working for-” A siren sounds, cutting off Villanelle. She looks at Eve. 

“See you, Eve.” Villanelle places a hand over Eve's quivering mouth and kisses it before weaving around Eve and disappearing into the hallway. 

Eve stumbles into the doorway behind her, disoriented. She looks around, her vision swimming. 

The world goes black.

She wakes up soon after, sitting on a royal blue bed. An elderly woman with dark skin and bantu knots in her hair rounds the corner, peeking at Eve. “Are you alright?” she asks, smiling slightly.  
Her eyes are kind, Eve decides, so she smiles back. “Where am I?” she wonders, sitting up suddenly and causing her head to swim again.

“Whoa there! Be gentle with yourself.” the woman warns, her soft voice and French accent pleasing to Eve's splitting head. She walks toward Eve and places a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. She smells nice, like lavender and cough medicine, much like Eve’s late grandma. 

“You blacked out, baby. Which is totally understandable, as the stress you must've endured would be too much for any regular person.” Eve smiles thankfully, raising off the bed slowly this time. “Thank you, miss…” “Abebe.”

Eve nods, “Miss Abebe.” She walks out the door, making her way down an unfamiliar hallway. She passes strange rooms, squinting at the labyrinth of hallways in front of her. 

“Eve? Why are you here?” Darius says, walking out of a room marked “Зал заседаний” “I - I blacked out. I'm a little lost,” Eve says, giving Darius a sheepish smile. He nods, silently walking aside her. “Do you have any idea who would've wanted to hurt Emiliya?” “Everyone,” Eve replies, and the two share a laugh.

“Hey, can I request something?” she asks, staring nervously at her slightly battered shoes. Darius nods. “Can I have a new room? One with a lock? I just want to feel safe.” They continue walking in silence. Darius grabs his iPad out of his saddle bag, tapping a couple of times on the screen. 

“Yes. It should be ready by the time we get there. I’ll get the people to deliver your stuff over.” Eve thanks him and they continue walking in silence for a few minutes. “Miss Abebe… What is her job?” Eve asks, still thinking of the kind features on the woman’s face. Darius looks at her, stunned, and blinks twice. “You met Miss Abebe?” he asks, scratching his head. “Yeah - she helped me in the nurses. Why are you so shocked?” Darius stops walking. “She is the founder of The Board.” Eve stops walking too. “What was she doing helping me then?” Eve asks, her mouth hanging open slightly. “She likes to pretend she is the nurse sometimes, or the cleaning lady. Last week, she posed as the lunch lady, even. She keeps an eye on everything, that woman. Miss Abebe is remarkable.” Darius’s demeanor changes when he talks about her, as if he is talking about his favorite person ever. He escorts Eve to the new room she requested with a deadlock on the door - just in case. 

It was when she was preparing for bed that she noticed something. Her ring is...gone. Not in her folded socks, or the place under the lining in her suitcase that she sliced with her tiny knife, or her tampon box, or in her pockets - any of her pockets. Eve tears every item she owns apart and stares at the mess on the floor, grabbing her hair with a frustrated hand and hyperventilating. 

What if they somehow know Villanelle gave her the ring? What if they can sense it has something to do with The Twelve?! And more importantly, Eve hasn't cracked the code of the ring yet. She was too shocked to even bring it up when Villanelle showed up. 

She needs that ring. It's the last thing she has from her. From the life before she knew how to kill someone with a toothbrush, or for that matter, any household object. She needs that motherfucking ring! Suddenly, Eve’s eyes widen. Flashes of the day go through her head. The mattress! Eve had stuffed the ring under the mattress because disaster would probably occur if anyone saw it. 

In truth, Eve doesn't know how the people here would react to a mere ring. Maybe it's from The Twelve though, which means she would be called a liar and probably a spy. Oh, and she would be executed. You see, as Darius said, no one would ever miss her, would they? Eve needs to get that ring.

She waits until it is so late it becomes early and throws on her basic black issued jumper, pulling the hood low over her head and making her way to her old room. Luckily, there are no security cameras in the hallways of private rooms. Eve has no idea what will lurk behind that door, but she decides it's going to be worth it if she gets her ring back. She reaches room 45 and gently places her hand on the doorknob, listening for any movement inside. She hears a long, high moan and widens her eyes, moving slightly away from the door and stifling a giggle.

She inhales deeply, turning the doorknob slowly and peeking through the gap. In Emiliya’s old bed, two women are going at it. They’re facing away from the door. 

Perfect. 

Eve pauses when she realises one of them is Saska and prays that she won’t notice Eve. She remembers how she smashed Saska face with a metal water bottle, and notes Saska’s plaster over her nose. She smiles slightly at the fact that she caused that. Eve crawls inside the tiny gap in the door she’s created, sliding onto her stomach and closing it with a barely audible click without drawing attention. 

She silently thanks herself for turning off the hallway lights on her way here because it would’ve gotten her sorry ass caught. She slithers across the floor, taking breaks in between movements and trying to block out the noises coming from the bed. Judging from the sounds, Eve only has a few minutes left before they finish. 

Eve slides under her bed, slapping a hand over her mouth at the sudden pause of sex noises next to her. “I just need to get something, be right back,” she hears. Suddenly, two hands grab Eve’s shoe, wrenching it and dragging her out from under the bed. Eve, having learnt how to react quickly, drives her elbow into Saska’s already injured nose, and while Sakska reacts, Eve reaches under the mattress, grabbing her ring and sliding it onto her finger. 

Saska’s partner pulls a large kitchen knife (literally from the community kitchen) and stands. The two are fully naked, obviously not worrying about that. “I just wanted my ring! I left it here!” Eve shouts, holding out her hand and staring at the glinting knife. “That - that ring! It’s the ring they issue members of The Twelve! They showed it in class toda-” Eve throws herself at the knife lady, knocking it out of her hand and then pointing it at Saska while sitting on the knife bitch. 

“Listen here, if you want your girlfriend alive, you will tell no one I was here, okay?" Eve hisses at Saska, putting the knife up against the naked and now knifeless woman’s neck as she cusses in every language there is.

Saska gulps, “You crazy bitch!” she spits. “Shut up! Do you want soldiers in here? She’ll get into shit for having the knife and you're not even supposed to be here, are you?” Eve threatens, staring hard at Saska. 

“Now, I was never here. If you tell anyone, and I find out, I will kill you both with my bare fucking hands.” Eve removes the kitchen knife, shoving it in her pocket and backing out slowly. She closes the door gently and begins the walk to her room. She pauses, looking up and down the hallway then scurrying to her door. She opens it and jumps. “Hi.” Darius sits on her bed. “Where’d you go?” he asks, scanning Eve up and down. “I was using Dashka’s toilet, I accidentally put a pad in mine and it got clogged.” Darius nods. “Do you need me to send someone over to unclog it?” “No. It’ll be fine.”  
Darius smiles. “The higher ups are very pleased with your work so far in this program. You only have a few more weeks until they decide you are ready.” Eve feels butterflies in her stomach.

*

A week later, as Eve slides on her royal blue training shirt for her sniping class, she gets a knock on her door. She slowly walks closer, grabbing the bra knife in her hand and prepares herself. Eve looks out the peephole and sees a graduation cap with a royal blue tassel sitting in front of her door. She opens it, picking up the hat and glancing at other’s doorsteps. About seven people beside her in the fourteen room hallway have hats. Saska’s room doesn't have a hat. It seems she won't be around for long. Eve smiles, picking hers up and flipping it upside down. It has a royal blue letter stuck to the inside, reading ‘Congratulations! Please proceed to the main hall.’ Eve grins, putting the hat atop her head and scurrying excitedly to the hall.

She enters through the wooden doors and is surprised at the small amount of graduates from about three hundred assassins - in - training. The bearded man that interviewed her walks to the door after Eve sits down and locks it. A gunshot rings out from just outside the door. 

“Clean ups. The ones who didn't graduate,” he says when everyone turns around. 

Everyone gets called up by their codenames one by one and handed a certificate with Russian lettering. Once they return to their seat the overseers begin collecting their trainees.

Darius taps Eve on the shoulder. Together they walk out of the building, up the staircase of the hotel and into a shiny new car that belongs to Eve. She smiles, all of her conscience forgotten.

Her new life officially begins now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii!! Another chapter for yall! Sooorrry that I upload at such strange times. Also sorry that this is so short  
> If you enjoy this and would like me to continue pls comment as they just make me so happy! I l o v e you.


	3. Chapter 3

The car rumbles out of town. It keeps driving, driving and driving until the buildings and houses turn into snowy, empty fields. The bald man driving grunts gently and presses the peddle, unimpressed at how long it seems to be taking to get to the destination. 

Darius grins widely at the driver’s impatience and turns to Eve. “It’s time, Eve. You have worked towards this moment for the last year of your life.” Darius reaches into his bag and pulls out a snow globe. “Everything you need is in this.” He says, handing it to Eve. She reaches into the compartment under the blue base, pulling out a passport, money, ID, and a royal blue set of keys. “For your new apartment.” Darius says, pointing at the keys.

“Now.” He instructs the driver, looking at him in the revision mirror. The road begins to open, sliding downward in a slope. The car drives down the ramp - road and as the car’s back wheels drop off the ramp it begins to move back up, closing the hole and leaving Eve, Darius and the driver in complete darkness. 

The car stops at a large catacomb - like archway, and Darius gets out of the car. Eve follows, leaving the car door open so the automatic light illuminates her way. She follows Darius, smelling the air of a passage that hasn't been opened in quite some time. They keep walking, rounding a corner and coming to another door, except this one looks modern and made of steel. 

“What is this place?” Eve asks while Darius scans a card he pulls from his bulbous pocket. “An old escape route for Russian gangs. We reclaimed it a couple of years ago and… lets just say the gang that built this aren't around anymore.”

The door unlocks with a metal clank and they enter a room with luggage, seemingly new, piled next to the door, “Накануне” written on all the tags. “Yours.” He says, motioning at the pile. 

“Through that door is Sheremetyevo International Airport. You go to the restroom and extract the information you need and catch your flight, you have a half hour.” Darius hands Eve a small Samsung J1 and instructs her to destroy it afterwards. With that, he exits back through the dark hallway and leaves Eve to her devices.

Her head feels like it throbs with the intense excitement of the fact that she is an assassin.

She is a monster full time now. What would Villanelle think-

No. 

No Villanelle now.

There is only Athena.

She breathes in slowly, pulling her hair back into a bun and getting to work. She picks up the carry on bag sitting atop her large suitcase and slips the money, passport, ID, phone and snow globe inside before swinging it onto her shoulder and dragging her suitcase behind her. 

Eve walks through the door and into the main food court, looking at the signs. She sees the bathroom sign and symbol and follows the arrow into a lush bathroom with marble walls and sinks. She walks into the cubicle and pulls out the phone and unlocking it. Eve opens the only app installed - a QR code scanner. She then retrieves the snow globe and smashes it against the tile floor, picking through the glass shards for the tiny white box that was embedded in glitter. 

She pulls a royal blue badge with a tiny cube of code out from the box, and then puts the box in the sanitary bin. Eve holds her phone over the cube, listening for the beeping noise to notify her that the code has been scanned. 

A file pops up on the home screen of the phone, stark white against the cheery photo of a garden that is the background of every shitty phone ever. Eve clicks it and types in the tiny numbers and letters beside the QR code on the cube - AXREPDTT563 - and a profile pops up. Fabron Leborgne, a French treasurer who is known for his suspicious amount of cash is Eve’s first target. He regularly cheats on his husband with female prostitutes, he really likes cockatiels, (he has five) and he once got charged for sexual harassment but his charges were dropped due to a mysterious reason. What a dick. 

Eve has a plan. 

She gets a call just as she unlocks her apartment door from the hideous vomit yellow apple iPhone sitting on her new glass table. She picks up after one ring, saying nothing. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow after the ordeal. Take your time to prepare. He will walk into PetsGalore some time tomorrow. He posted about it on Facebook - looking to buy a new bird.” “ A Cockatiel.” “Good, Eve. Good. As I was saying, get there at six and dont leave until he is dealt with. Remember, you are untraceable now. Have fun with it. This is your first kill, do well and you should expect cash on your doorstep very soon.” “Got it.” Eve replies, hanging up. Darius is so blunt.

She throws herself onto her soft mattress, thinking of Villanelle and how Eve layed on her bed. It was ridiculously soft too. Assassins like soft beds, Eve supposes.

She thinks of her monster growing and growing and enveloping her organs, her lungs, her heart, until the only thing that makes her body beat and pump and expand is death, funnily enough. 

Death and money and sex.

Eve decides she wants a partner tonight. 

She prepares for tomorrow, laying out costumes and keys and vowing not to drink as that would spoil the mission and Eve would be dead and buried before you could say fuck. 

She zips open her new suitcase, peering at the expensive items inside. She thinks of when Villanelle gave her a suitcase, much like this one.

Sorry baby x.

She thinks of the ring on her finger. 

Eve puts thoughts of Villanelle aside in favor of the lover she was about to pick up. She fluffs her hair up, puts on makeup and chooses a dark blue dress made of silk with a long belt tied into a bow around the waist. She undoes the bow. Eve has never been stylish. She puts a small knife into her bag, made of chain and pearl, and grasps her ugly phone in her hand. 

Eve steps out of her apartment, running a hand through her hair and sighing deeply. She uses her phone to navigate from her house to the nearest club, looking at the colorful exterior and loud music pumping from the speakers. 

She squints up at the title, Moments Amusants, and smiles. Good times. She flashes her ID at the doorman and enters the club, colors and music and people envelop her with a burning sensation She plucks her way to the bar, ordering a shot glass full of sparkling water and winking at the barman.

He serves it, free of charge and moves to take the twenty other alcohol zombie’s orders, leaving Eve alone at her end of the bar. She swivels her chair to face the dancefloor, watching the beautiful people waving their arms around and chattering happily.

Eve’s eyes stop at a woman, blonde hair, with beautiful sparkling dress pants and suit coat. She looks at Eve through her sparkling lashes and smiles.

The woman reminds Eve of Villanelle. Her body reacts before her mind as she gets to her feet, walking over to the beautiful woman and grabbing her hands. Together, they dance and shimmy and chatter over the music, and Eve learns that the beautiful creature before her is named Amele, she speaks French, English, and Chinese, she is a language student and a lesbian. 

Eve tells her fake facts about herself. She introduces herself as Breyanka (the name of a drink the bartender was serving) And says she is a barista who comes from the country. A few minutes later, Amele asks if she wanted to leave with her and Eve obliges, her eyes glossed over with lust. They arrive at Amele’s house ten minutes later after calling a taxi. Eve was prepared to say her family were staying over but Amele didn't even ask to go to Eve’s apartment. Her house was closer, anyway.   
*

The duo tumble through Amele’s door, already removing clothing.

As Eve is getting there, she imagines Amele is Villanelle, imagines her French accent is Russian, imagines her face was V’s. 

After her one night partner falls asleep, Eve sneaks out her front door, disappointed that the sex didn't fully satisfy her. She squeezes her eyes shut, getting hit with a wave of nausea at the realization that Villanelle still controls her life. She still taunts her, even in her absence. As Eve sleeps She dreams of Villanelle, laughing at Eve. She laughs and laughs and contorts and becomes Niko, becomes Bill and Kenny and Frank. Becomes the face of death itself. She sits up abruptly, deciding not to sleep any longer tonight.  
*  
Sasha tosses and turns in her bed, thinking of how the rain thundering on her tin roof will not cease. The noise is supposed to be relaxing but it reminds her of the train and she hates public transport with a burning passion, for good reason too. She rolls over in her bed, facing her husband, Tim, and decides to turn again. Tim has coffee breath. She reaches for her Iphone, scrolling aimlessly through the news updates. She pauses, reading about how a former MI6 agent was found drowned in her bath. She squints at the screen, trying to find anything she recognizes so she can determine if she knew the deceased. 

She reads about the wine glass in the bodies hand and her eyes widen. 

Eve Polastri. It has to be Eve. 

You see, Sasha knew Eve before she got fired by Frank, when she worked at MI5. 

Eve got hired by MI6?

When?

She sits up, furrowing her brows.

*

Eve puts on her wig. It is scratchy and long, hanging down her back in red tendrils. Putting her voluminous hair inside a wig cap was even harder than wearing the itch - creator, leaving Eve close to tears of frustration. She reaches over and grasps the gaudy hat reading 'PetGalore' in cheap bubble letters. Eve, already wearing her suspiciously crispy blue polo shirt with the same lettering, pulls the hat over her wig and adjusts it until it looks natural. She puts in her hazel contacts and slides a hideous bag on her shoulder.

The bag has fluro orange tassels and is the color of a bad sunburn. Eve opens the shoe box that was packed in her luggage, pulling out an ALFA defender handgun and slipping it into her ugly bag. She takes one final look in the mirror before walking to the pet shop, her maps app open. 

She reaches it in no time, unlocking the somehow empty shop with the key Darius sent her and taking a quick tour of the shop - the entries, the exits, where the birds are. Eve gets a particularly cute cockatiel out of his cage and continues setting up the shop - opening the doors and pinning them back, sweeping the floors, and feeding the birds. As Eve was trained to act as if she is on show, like an actress on a stage, from the moment she steps into that shop until the moment her target hits the floor. 

At around midday, as expected, Fabron walks into the shop, talking on the phone. His hair is ruffled, and a woman with low rise jeans and a g - string poking out the back every time she even slightly bends over walks at his side. A problem. ‘Hello! What can I do for you?” Eve asks brightly. “Cockatiels. I want to see your cockatiels.” Eve nods, beginning to chatter brightly - spitting out useless bird facts as she pretends to potter behind the desk.

“Just getting the key.” Eve says in between her useless string of words. She slides past Fabron, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and distracting him with a loud laugh, triggering the birds in the back to begin a chorus of tweets. He smiles, walking behind Eve who has slipped his wallet in her bra. “Now, we only accept cash, so can you check for me if you have any?” He pats his pockets. 

“Sophie, love, can you go get my wallet out of the car for me?” He asks the woman. She nods, taking his keys and making her slow decent towards the carpark in her platform shoes.

Eve then starts to unlock the bird room, before kicking out backwards and hitting something, hard, listening to his grunt. 

She picks Fabron up by his arm and drags him into the room where the agitated cockatiels squark. Eve, one arm holding tightly to the disoriented Fabron while he cradles his crotch, uses the other to open the cage doors, watching as the cockatiels fly through the window. She turns back, feeling something sharp slice her cheek. Fabron had pulled a tiny knife from his pocket, throwing it at Eve’s face. She hits two pressure points in his arm, waiting for the gap in his wailing and pulling her gun out. She shoots him twice, one through the left lung and one through the heart. 

She leans close to his face, watching the last remnants of life escape his eyes. She feels a rush. She picks up an empty birds cage and puts it on his head, stepping back and admiring her work. Then, she hears Sophie enter the shop. She steps out of the now empty bird room and closes the door. “Fabron is bonding with the birds. He doesn't wish to be disturbed until he chooses the right one.” Sophie opens her mouth. 

“Is that why they've gone quiet?” “They love him.” Eve grins, edging herself behind Sophie and punching her, hard in the back of her blonde head. Enough to shake any proper details she remembers about Eve besides her red hair and hazel eyes, but not enough to kill her. Eve flees, peeling off her shirt and putting her skivvy on and discarding the hat, contacts, and wig into a homeless man’s dumpster file as she passes. She feels… amazing. Electric shocks spark their way up and down her body and her legs quiver at the feeling, threatening to buckle.

Eve has done it.

A/N CUZ THE ANS ARE GLITCHING hiii sorry that this is short again, was busy. pls comment, as it inspires me. luv u


	4. Chapter 4

A/N before we start (My a/ns never work)  
SMUT warning. Don't get too excited, it isn't V+E (for now heheheh) but it does involve one of the two. Guess now in the comments! I love comments and I will write more and more with praise cuz idk it makes me work better. this is fun and I love yall, I hope you love my work too. 

Sasha Jones works as a receptionist for MI5.

She buzzes in agents, listens to the latest security gossip, rosters everyone, and sometimes serves tea.

She wants to do something more.

Something substantial, something that actually matters. 

No one cares about the receptionist, do they? She knows she is so much more capable than her job description, but due to her lack of qualifications because of her teen and young adult years consisting of wearing thick, black eyeliner and posting on MySpace, doing absolutely nothing else with her life.

It was only when her mum died of cancer that she decided to do something, be someone before her time runs out like her ma's did. She applied to a wide variety of jobs to no avail, so she headed to university and took a typing, paperwork and filing, and storing course before applying to work at MI5. 

She had always wanted to do something high profile in the government but had no idea how to start so she settled as a secretary, hoping to get shreds of information by eavesdropping and playing make believe that she was a spy.

She had taken a particular liking to Eve Polastri, recognizing a similar want for something more in her eyes. They only talked a few times about nothing, but Sasha had grown a slight infatuation with her. They both had male partners but she found herself unequivocally attracted to Eve. It was probably just that if Sasha could marry anyone, it would be herself and Eve was the next best thing. It was no serous crush, just a shallow involvement that made her notice everything Eve did.   
She had rubbed a few out to the thought of Eve, but suppresses the memories. She began to depend on seeing Eve, the only excitement in her long, boring day, until she stopped coming.

Sasha remembers the crushing feeling when she noticed that Eve hadn't shown up to work for six or seven weeks, and had to close her laptop lid down when she got the email that Eve was fired and was directed to remove her from the roster. 

Sasha had a feeling she was working with someone else, sometimes seeing her around London and noting the knitting of her eyebrows, the concerned or concentrated look she always seemed to have. 

Those weren't the expressions of a jobless woman. 

She returns home to her apartment, smiling to herself when she remembers Tim is at a work thing for the next three weeks. She never really liked him and she never really will, she just married him so her parents would shut up and the large amount of cash that came with him was a welcomed bonus. 

He is a lawyer, crooked and nasty and almost always smelling of coffee. They fight all the time but the sex is good so Sasha stays. 

She thinks of Eve again, setting her things down and sitting on the sofa. She hikes her pencil skirt up, sliding her panties to the side and feeling the glistening wetness there. She just starts to warm herself up when she hears a clank outside her door, snapping her head up and walking over, looking out the peephole.

She looks at the back of a blonde woman, walking into the apartment across from her and shutting the door without looking back. The man who lives there has always kept to himself, his neighbor told Eve at a party that she hears him talking about computers and killing and the number twelve. Sasha brushed it off, as Mrs Abercrombe just a paranoid old woman worried about nothing serious. 

Something makes Sasha stay at the door, waiting, staring out the peephole. She waits for about ten minutes before the woman opens the door again and Sasha gets a good look at her face. 

She is young and beautiful, with high cheekbones and glowy skin. She wears a pale pink shirt made of what looks like satin tucked into grey, the same shade of pink, and white striped pants. She has her hands in her pockets and something makes her left pocket bulge. 

The woman stops, staring straight at Sasha's door and squinting. Sasha steps back from the peephole, slapping a hand over her mouth. Something about the woman both scares and is very similar to herself, a darkness lurking behind her eyes Sasha sometimes catches when looking in her own eyes in the mirror. 

The doorknob jiggles and Sasha, her skirt still hiked up, opens the drawer next to the door feverishly and pulls out her swiss army knife that she primarily uses for bottle or letter opening, flicking out the knife and pointing it at the door. 

The door swings open and the woman widens her eyes at the sight. There Sasha stands, her long dark hair hanging in her face, bright blue eyes blazing, her skirt hiked up around her waist, frilly white panties on show and knife in hand. Villanelle giggles.

"Hi." She says in a British accent, smiling slightly. "I was just going to borrow some sugar." Sasha stares at her, perplexed. "Who enters a house without knocking?! I was -" "Masturbating? I can tell. Who about?" The woman asks, sitting on Sasha's couch like she was invited in. Something about her makes Sasha want to tell her everything and nothing at the same time. "A woman who used to go to my work." "Where do you work?" Sasha sits next to her, pulling her skirt back down. "MI5." The blonde woman turns to Sasha. "What is her name?" "Eve. Eve -" "Polastri?" "You know her?" The blonde woman reaches across the gap between the two and grabs Sasha's breast, squeezing it. "What the-" She gets silenced by a soft mouth over hers, kissing her gently.

The woman comes up for air. "I am Lucy." She says, standing to unbutton her pants. Sasha does the same, taking off her top and her pencil skirt and discarding them on the floor, thoughts second to desire. Villanelle grabs her now bare breasts, taking a nipple in her mouth and biting down on it. Sasha wines, thrusting her hips up. She gets met with a firm hand on her hips, forcing them down and leaning over, taking the white band of Sasha's underpants in her mouth and dragging them over her knees, revealing the wet heat that burns there. "You are very wet." She says, her accent faltering a little.

Something about the accent that slips through makes Sasha slip a finger in herself, fucking in and out. Villanelle stares, looking at the perfect belly roles and stretch marks like lightning bolts on her beautiful thighs, tummy, and her large, soft breasts. She looks at the woman's pussy, pink and perfect. She licks her lips, leaning in and lapping at her clit, listening for the inevitable high moans. 

Villanelle comes up for air, taking her shirt off and revealing her lean, athletic body and her perfectly shaped breasts. Villanelle rubs at her clit, biting her lip at the sight of Sasha's hungry eyes, raking up and down Villanelle's pretty body. She likes to be looked at, Sasha decides. Sasha gets up, pushing Villanelle onto the couch and kneeling in front of her perfectly kept pussy, licking it up and down and inserting two fingers just like how she does to herself. 

'Do you have a-" "Yes. From my wilder days." Sasha giggles nervously, walking into her room. Villanelle watches as her beautiful ass jiggles with every step, smiling to herself. She returns with a black strap - on, handing it to Villanelle without question. 

She straps it on, getting a rush as she feels herself get wetter. She tells Sasha to sit on it, slowly, facing Villanelle so she can see every last facial expression. She does as she is told, Villanelle watching the fearful expression turn into a happy one and then into one of pure ecstacy, Sasha's eyebrows knitting and her beautiful pink mouth hanging open. 

Villanelle fucks into her furiously, watching Sasha's entire body jerk every time she slams into her. Sasha reaches under the strap on and slips a finger into Villanelle's wet pussy, the two fucking each other at the same time. 

They slow, staring, before Sasha shakes on the strap, pushing down and swearing. Her orgasm rocks her, aftershocks making her legs shake. Villanelle cums from the look on her face and the finger inside her, biting down on her bottom lip and making no noise but jerking around and clenching her legs together. The two women stare at each other.

"How do you know Eve?" Sasha asks, still sitting on Villanelle's strap. "I used to like her. She didn't like me back." Villanelle says. "So... weren't you jealous that I liked her too? I would be jealous. I wouldn't fuck my rival." Villanelle laughs at this, looking from Sasha's left eye to her right. "I usually wouldn't either. I would probably kill you." Sasha doesn't laugh, not sure if V is joking or not. "But," Villanelle continues, "I don't like Eve now. She has turned bad. We have both had our hearts broken by Eve, one way or another. We shared the pain." "By fucking?" "By fucking." "Thank god she's dead then, amirite?" Villanelle stops, turning to Sasha. "She is dead?" "Drowned in the bathtub a few days ago, it was on the news." Villanelle dresses and slips out the door while Sasha is still trying to put on her stockings. Sasha wants to call out when she notices, to run after the mysterious English - turned - Russian woman, but something tells her to stay where she is. 

"I bring news." Darius says, entering Eve's apartment. "You did very well." He sits on Eve's pale pink couch across from her, putting three stacks of money about the width of a table leg each onto Eve's table, sliding them towards her. "Villanelle has been active. She has killed a man named Viktor Alibsi who was an ex member of the twelves accounting team. He was giving us information, and just before we could ask him about assassins the call ended and he was found dead by the woman who lives next door."

Eve sits back in her seat, acting indifferent but her body set alight inside. "How do you know it was her?" "She put a lampshade on his head and filled his empty eye sockets with flour." Eve gives a small smile at that. 

"She visited a woman who lived across from her target and spent twenty five minutes inside before emerging again and disappearing. We are going to send people to speak to her. " "Was there CCTV?" "No. But the paranoid woman who lived next door of the deceased had a camera filming out her peephole at all times, and we have the footage." Eve's eyes widen. "That can't be illegal. Show me."

She watches the tape on Darius's iPad. It has been remastered for better quality and Eve watches as Villanelle walks inside the unknown woman's apartment. There is a glimpse of the woman who lets her in, and Eve instantly recognizes her as Sasha Jones. Her hair is the exact same and those bright blue eyes can even be seen from across the hallway. Eve's body breaks out in a rash of jealousy and she has to close her eyes for a minute. "I used to work with the woman who let her in. Send me to talk to her." Darius nods. 'Very well. Lets hope she hasn't heard of your death." "I haven't seen her in the longest time and I don't associate with my old work anymore." "It was published in the news." 

"I'll think of something." He picks up his phone and sends off a text. "You have twenty minutes to get to the airport, car's outside." He hands her a snow globe and off she goes.

On the way from the airport to Sasha's apartment building, Eve has to suppress the urge to shoot Sasha on sight. She then chastises herself, tucking her monster back away for the time being. She made sure to dress like normal, with a zip up jacket and a pencil skirt with black stockings and ankle boots. Her hair is held back with a black clip. The car stops and Eve gets out, taking her purse and her just - in - case - gun which she lets sink to the very bottom of her bag. She suppresses her nerves that have come from out of nowhere. Why should she be nervous? 

Eve stops at apartment number 34 and knocks twice. Sasha opens the door and widens her eyes at the sight of Eve, stepping back. "You are dead." She says, pointing a shaking finger at Eve.

"Clearly I am not. Let me in, please."

Eve sits on Sasha's couch with a tea in her hands. "So what is it that you need?" She asks, sitting next to Eve after making her tea. "Yesterday you were visited by a Russian woman, about 5'6, blonde hair, high cheekbones, stylish... Sasha looks sick. "Y - yes. I was." "Tell me everything about her." Sasha blanches. "Why would I tell you anything?" She asks, standing up. Eve sighs. She didn't want it to come to this. "Sasha, tell me or things will not be easy for you." She relents, to Eve's "delight", and sits back down with a defeated plop. 

"We - we had - uh" "Sex?" Eve asks, her stomach on fire. "Yeah." "Why did she come into your apartment? Did she know you?" "No. She just let herself in and we talked and then she kissed me and it kinda escalated." 

"What did you talk about?" "I - uh.. y - you. She asked me what I was thinking about and I told her you. I left out the fact that the reason I was thinking about you was because of a report that someone had died and it sounded like you but I guess I was wrong." She chuckles, clearly in shock.

"She asked me where I worked and then asked for your name and I told her. After the s - sex she said something about how she used to like you but not anymore and that you had turned bad. She also said she would usually have killed me when she heard I liked you but she didn't because she just doesn't like you and you broke mine and her heart. I mentioned the fact that you died, assuming she already knew and it was grief sex or something, and she left." 

Sasha takes a breath.

Eve does too. 

She gets up, leaving the apartment without a word and walking past the car waiting for her. She processes all of this by the time she gets to her old apartment and makes up her mind. 

She calls Darius and reports the situation and what happened over the past hour. He records all the information he needs and is about to hang up when Eve asks something. He agrees and hangs up swiftly.

Eve makes her way back to Sasha's apartment. She stops, fist halfway to knocking on the door when she hears a familiar voice. Her heart drops to her ass.

Villanelle. 

Eve gets her gun ready. She slams open the door, looking at the sight before her. Villanelle sits on her floor, playing cards spread around her, and Sasha sits on her lap, smiling with glee. The smile quickly melts as she meets eyes with Eve. 

Eve feels a jolt at the shock in Villanelle's eyes, silently reveling in the fact that she caught her by surprise. Villanelle springs up, shoving Sasha off her lap and taking off into one of Sasha's rooms. Eve fires two rounds into Sasha, sighing slowly and tilting her head back. 

She pauses, feeling eyes on her. She looks in the hallway at Villanelle, standing still and staring at Eve in Sasha's dark hallway. 

"Why did you do that?" Villanelle asks, her eyes fluttering. "Sorry, baby." Eve says, her voice bitter. Villanelle wants her to be a mess, wants her to be scared. She isn't. 

And Villanelle is still here. Still staring. the dynamic shifts from power and powerless to two equal sides of power and that intrigues both of them. "You are over me. I've gone bad. Says the psychopath." Villanelle laughs bitterly, walking down the hallway towards Eve with cautious steps.

"I thought you were dead." She says softly, reaching into her pocket. Eve points her gun at Villanelle's head. "Hand. out. of. your. pocket." Villanelle complies, although she brings a gun out with her hand. 

The two step closer, each holding a gun aiming at the others head. "You don't like me anymore?" Eve asks, letting just a tiny crack of emotion seep into her voice. "I try not to, and yet we always end up like this, don't we Eve. Eve bites her lip. "You look good." She says gently, avoiding Villanelle's eyes. "You too." Villanelle replies, her voice just above a whisper.

Villanelle fires the gun near Eve's feet and she jumps, dropping her gun. By the time she looks up, she is standing alone in her apartment with Sasha's body at her feet. Goddamn fucking Villanelle, using that move on her twice. 

Eve's heart hammers in her chest and she allows herself to smile, taking a shaky breath. What was she going to do?


	5. Chapter 5

Eve blinks, staring at the abundance of porcelain dolls staring back at her. She squints her eyes, cocking her head to the side and tapping at the glass like they are going to move. She turns to Darius. “Who collects these?” He inclines his head. “One of the Board. He is an architect, so because he designed the office, he decided he also got the right to the interior design too."

Eve is drawn by a certain doll with wide, blue eyes. She has small ringlets framing her face at the front and longer brunette curls cascading down her back. Her expression is sad, looking as if she is about to cry. She wears a blue dress with a simple floral pattern and a bracelet around her porcelain arm. Eve points to her. “I like that one.” Darius chuckles. “You are about to meet the real thing.” 

Eve is just about to react when a woman walks in. Her glass - like blue eyes pierce Eve with recognition and she looks from the doll to the woman. She is beautiful, wearing that same sad expression. Her small ski jump nose, her plump, red lips, her porcelain - like skin. “Who is that?” Eve whispers to Darius. “Her name is Alyah. Her dad is the architect I mentioned.” He whispers back.

“Hello, Eve. It is lovely to see you.” She extends a hand, her nails a sparkling pink. Eve shakes it. “I understand The Board requested a meeting with me?” Eve asks. “That is right. Come with me.” Her accent is posh and very English, her pronunciation of every syllable precise and prim. She begins walking, her black heels clicking and her long blue shift swishing. 

They arrive at a room, the walls painted royal blue, and Eve takes a seat at the end of a long wooden table, watching as Darius sits on her left. Alyah sits at her right, and they all stare at the empty wooden chair, waiting for the last person to enter. Miss Abebe steps through the large wooden doorway, wearing a royal blue blazer and a loose white shirt tucked into black slacks. She sits on the chair with a smile, looking at Eve. “Hello, Miss Polastri. When I met you in the nurse's office I knew you would be sitting here today. I just knew it.”

Eve smiles, shifting in her seat awkwardly at all the attention on her. In the past year, Eve has killed 46 people. She worked overtime to get to that number, and she is proud of it. In the time that has passed since her last Villanelle encounter, she hasn't seen her once. She hasn't heard her voice, saw her smirk, watched as her blonde hair shifted around her face. She hasn't smelled her perfume, stared into her intoxicating eyes. She hasn't heard of any new kills from her since last year. She is doing better now. She loves her job, she has a “girlfriend” who thinks Eve’s name is Jane, she has money, a nice apartment, and a new, slightly shorter haircut. Everything is good.

It is.

She had gotten a postcard with several porcelain dolls on the back and knew it was something exciting.   
She snaps her attention back to Miss Abebe. “Eve, you have constantly impressed your employers. You have shown everything you promised, and we have decided to offer you a position. “I’m listening.” Eve says, leaning forward in her seat and resting her elbows on her knees. Darius kicks her under the table and she straightens her posture again. 

“We would like you to be involved in a large operation. This operation involves us attaching you to one single person that is high power. This woman will not just let anyone into her life, so we need you to weave your way in, seduce her for all I care, and finally, we need you to steal her information and kill her. She likes women and has heard your old name but, luckily, she's too high profile to even look at the photos of her threats. She has two assassins guarding her at all times because an ex member of the Board tipped of a member of the twelve about the threat to Helene’s life.” 

“Helene? Is that her name?” 

“Yes. You may have heard mentions of her as she is a very high profile, powerful member of the Twelve, and she has most definitely heard about you. If our intel is wrong and she does know what you look like, we do have papers made up that state you are Eve’s sister. We can excuse the fact that you don't show up on regular family records with a marriage and a name change. Now, I do know that sounds ridiculous but it could work, as no offence, but you did have a habit of pushing people away in favor of your work, which works for us.” Eve nods. 

“You will do well, Eve. Do you accept?” Miss Abebe asks, leaning forward and locking eyes with Eve. She, not even taking a second to consider, nods. Miss Abebe’s lips break out into a beautiful smile, revealing her straight, white teeth. “Good.” Eve smiles back.

Three weeks later, Eve finally gets a call. Her fingertips itch and she stares at herself in the mirror after hanging up the phone. 

She thinks of her life.

Her sad, pointless two years of chasing a beautiful demon.

A footprint, a shadow, a hand on the wooden door. 

A look, a moment. A person that is so un person like, so different.

All that time, wondering how she’d feel, how she’d react, what makes her tick. 

That curiosity ate up Eve's life, devoured it, turned it into the approximate shape and size of Villanelle. 

Sometimes, she still thinks about her. But something inside her tells her that whatever they had, whatever tension that built up, needs to come to a head or die away into the dust. She thinks about the evil in her mind, the way it grew more and more every time she killed. 

It takes up her mind, her mouth, her words and her hands. She had spent hours pining for the familiarity of Niko after her first kill. She had come to a realization when she was scrubbing the blood off her face. Niko represented her life before. He is nice and normal and polite and kind - what Eve used to be. Villanelle represents and, well, is, her life after. Death, thick and poisonous coated in a beautiful exterior. 

Eve doesn't know how she feels about anything anymore. 

But she does know one thing - she will figure it out eventually.

But right now, all she needs to worry about is Helene. 

a/n SORRY ITS SHORTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.  
I WILL WRITE MORE SOON. LOVE U PLS COMMENT

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh I hope yall likety like it!!!!!!!!!!!11 will be posting as I get the chapters out, on holidays rn so I have looots of time <3


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